


black hearted angel

by theflyjar



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Angst, Biting, Blood, Blood Kink, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Dysfunctional Relationships, Emotional Manipulation, Execution, Gang Violence, Gangs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Daddy Kink, Jealousy, M/M, Manipulation, Murder, Murder Kink, Organized Crime, Ownership, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Sexual Assault, Possessive Behavior, Smut, Violence, fanxing do have sex next to dead bodies though, fanxing don't die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2018-11-01 05:11:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10915011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theflyjar/pseuds/theflyjar
Summary: Yifan’s alive, but Yixing’s a poison in his veins that will either destroy him or everything around them.





	1. [you] sunk me, with kisses on my mouth

**Author's Note:**

> please heed the warnings in the tags. thank you.
> 
> yixing: 23  
> yifan: 34

Deathly silence. That's all there was when Yifan peeled open the front door of the house, not even the whirring of a dishwasher was heard to break the weight over the building. He walked evenly, his face expressionless and his legs fluid in their movements. He knew he was dark and imposing when he held himself in such a way. It was a perk of looking naturally intimidating and playing the role he did in the life he lived.

Maids, servers and cleaners didn't dare look at him. Their eyes were downcast and their nerves were visible in their posture—had his mind been in the room, he would have smirked at the power he had over them. However, he wasn't there to flaunt or gloat, he was there at the beckoning call of his Young Master and his Young Master alone.

The Young Master's bedroom was grandiose in every sense, even his door handles had been forged from tempered glass and gold, Yifan was also certain that the ivory on Yixing's bed was indeed the tusks of an Elephant. It wouldn't have shocked Yifan, his Young Master had always been on the spoilt end of the spectrum ever since his childhood. He made Yifan look as though he was more humble than a beggar. And yet, when Young Master said, " _Jump_ ," Yifan did not ask how high, he responded with, " _From_ _where_?"

Despite how spoilt his Young Master was, Yifan knew that he had a gentle edge to his heart where he'd try to help anybody who needed it. Yifan had watched the now twenty-three-year-old grow up having been eleven years his senior and an apprentice of the Young Master's family when he'd been born. The two of them hadn't had much contact during the younger man's early growth, he had spent many of his years until his pre-teens at boarding school and Yifan had been learning the ways of the household with avid attention. Upon Yixing's return to the house, Yifan's role for the family shifted from a general house worker to the one who cleaned up after Yixing.

It was only supposed to be a temporary position for the man, the tedious job of running after a young teenager was a step down in responsibility. It was only when Yixing left the house or had weapons training that Yifan felt as though he really came into his own. _He_ was the one who taught Yixing how to fire a gun, _he_ was the one who taught Yixing how to fight and _he_ was the one who taught Yixing how to handle the family _‘business'_.

Somewhere along the way, Yifan's loyalty fell straight to the younger male. He was entirely at his Young Master's whim. In the early years, all that was demanded from Yifan had been smaller things; doing his homework for him, cleaning his room, getting him out of trouble at school. The later teenage years and the Young Master's stint in university were littered with drunken demands that Yifan should drive to take him home, late night phone calls when Yixing was nervous about an exam and dealing with any _'business'_ that his Master didn't want to.

There had been times when Yifan had been called to attend to his Young Master _physically_. They weren't regular occasions, nor were they rare. The younger only ever invited Yifan into his bedroom when he was either bored enough or was tired of using his own hand. And, as always, Yifan complied to what was demanded of him. If that meant being kneeled on the floor, the Young Master's thighs either side of his head and the weight of the younger male's hard, salty-tasting cock on his tongue, he would complete the action willingly.

However, when Yifan's phone, the one that was devoted only to his Young Master, had woken him from his sleep in his own apartment not too far from the household, he had known something was wrong. The younger only called in the dead of night when he was hurt, scared or incredibly sad.

When the voice that flooded through his earpiece was not that of his Young Master's, Yifan was dressing within a heartbeat to go to wherever he was needed and he left in under five minutes. He'd driven at an impossibly fast speed to the house ten minutes further out of the city, hurtling down the long driveway and getting out of his car with a harsh slam that shook the vehicle where he'd haphazardly parked it in front of the luxurious house.

He bypassed everybody, dead set on reaching his Young Master. Yifan wasn't scared. Yifan _never_ felt scared. There was, however, concern and a certain level of emotional fear in his veins when he thought of Yixing needing him when he wasn't present to support the younger instantly.

Upon his opening of the door, he was greeted with the sight of people huddling at the door of the bathroom that was placed annexe to the bedroom. If he were deaf, he'd have missed sounds his ear received layered just beneath those coming from the running shower. It struck something within his chest. The clear sounds of his Young Master's relentless sobbing assaulted every part of his will.

The words, the commands, left his mouth before he realised it. The assertiveness he carried in his tone when he told people to move out of the way of the door was unrivalled within the house, it had each of the people surrounding the bathroom door scrambling away and out of the room.

He slipped his hand into his pocket, withdrew a set of keys and selected one that had a long neck and cleanly cut teeth. The metal was cool under his fingers, despite how long the item had been lodged in his pocket, but he didn't linger on that. He couldn't do so. Not when his Young Master was sobbing with such intensity on the other side of the structured panel.

The lock clicked instantly once the key had been turned, he calmly opened the door and everything in his world stopped spinning when he saw a figure curled up on the other side of the toilet. He took three paces, dropped to his knees and crawled the rest of the way. The water from the flattened wet-room in the bathroom overflowed out onto the tiled floor, sullying his trousers as he shuffled along the surface.

A thick stream of red could be seen running like a river from his Young Master's clothing. Panic rose up and wrapped around his heart, it was almost impossible to ignore but Yifan pushed it down and away from his consciousness.

"Master," he called, shocking the younger out of his trembling and the smaller male's head snapped up to meet his eyes.

Even when they were glossed with tears, those brown orbs were defensive until they registered that it was Yifan, his protector. Bit by bit, Yifan's Young Master crumbled down before his eyes before there was nothing but unguarded vulnerability; the side only Yifan saw.

"Yifan," the younger male croaked out, uncurling from where he was sat to advance on his knees with his hands stretched out towards the servant. "I killed someone, Yifan. I killed someone."

Those words fell over and over and over out of the other's quivering lips, tears staining his cheeks and blood reddened fingers touching all over Yifan's face. He could smell the rusty quality to the fluid, he could feel it sticking to his skin but nothing mattered when Yixing was falling apart.

"Who did you kill?" Yifan's voice was level, softer than it normally would be but it remained even as he spoke. "Master, who did you kill?"

"She wouldn't listen to me," the younger whimpered out. "I told her not to push me, I told her to stop testing me because I'd do something I would regret."

At the helm of the organisation he ran, the Young Master rarely had to dirty his hands with anything. He was cunning, deceptively smart and soft to the eye—not a killer by design or upbringing. There were others that did that when he commanded, he was the one schooled to _think_ for his family business, not to sully his delicate hands with the blood of others.

Yifan, however, had seen the light behind somebody's eyes dim to nothingness before. He had been one of the footmen commanded by his Young Master to carry out such crimes. Whilst he never followed blindly, he was at the whim of the crying man before him and he served to please him only. Never once had Yifan told his Young Master ' _no_ ', but that was because he had never given himself the chance to.

The taller's hands rose up to hold at the younger's cheeks, to take the jaw of the man he'd watch flourish from a childish beauty into a strikingly handsome man. "Where is the body?"

"I didn't want to do it, Yifan," the broken whisper was deafeningly loud over the noise of the shower.

"Master," the name went unanswered, the smaller's babbling continued. His shock had taken over. Yifan steeled himself before daring to let a name escape his lips,

"Yixing."

That had the younger male turning rigid under Yifan's palms, the name had been a shock. Only equals were allowed to name the Young Master and that was something Yifan was not, he was owned. "Where is the body?"

The question settled before Yixing pointed out of the doorway of the bathroom and Yifan released Yixing's face to move away from him. With his built strength, Yixing kept Yifan's face still where it was, locked into place in front of him. Yifan lowered his gaze, submitting. He heard it first, the water around them splashing as Yixing shifted his weight.

Yifan had been struck before by a Master. Never Yixing, though. He steeled himself for it, readied his body for the blow he'd be dealt for naming his Young Master, even when they were in private. Yixing sometimes allowed Yifan call him by his name, those were the occasions where Yixing would welcome Yifan into his bed and he'd insist on Yifan groaning out his name. Not his title.

The shock came when Yixing kissed him, a gentle touch that was barely there with how much Yixing was shaking under his skin but Yifan's eyes remained submissive to his Young Master.

Once he was released, Yifan lifted Yixing to his feet and stripped him out of his clothing, he ushered his Young Master into the shower, washed him until there was no blood left on his skin or in his hair. He dried Yixing with a towel, brought him new underwear to sleep in and guided him to his bed. His clothes were soaked through, his skin prickled and he felt the cold set in down to his bones. He ensured the trembling man drank sweetened tea to ward off the blunt, suffocating edges of shock from imprinting to deeply into his mind.

However, with Yixing safely in his bed, and another kiss pressed to Yifan's mouth from the younger, he took his departure from the scene. He ordered maids and other servants to clear out the water from the bathroom, others burned Yixing's soaked clothing and Yifan slipped into Yixing's study.

The sight of a lifeless body before him wasn't surprising, nor was the amount of blood surrounding it. His stomach didn't turn or shift whilst he set about beginning to clean up the mess his Young Master had made. Like he always had done.

 

«                »

 

Yifan's clothes had to be burnt once the body was dealt with, his hands and nails were stained with red by the time he made it back to Yixing's bedroom. The sun was peeking over the top of the horizon outside of the large bay windows as he settled in the armchair that sat tucked under an ornate dresser, he watched over the sleeping form under the worry that nightmares would plague his Young Master.

The ache that came with needing to rest his limbs and the stinging sensation in his eyes didn't ebb away, it only grew stronger as Yixing's body stirred itself awake as the room naturally lightened. Yifan didn't have to wait too long before the younger male was peeling himself out of his bed and stretching out his powerfully lithe body. The servant didn't make his presence known as he sat and observed the other, not that Yixing needed to be notified that Yifan was there. He always knew, somehow.

With gentle padding of his feet, Yixing made his way over to the seated man dressed in spare clothing that was kept in a storage room in the basement levels of the house. They smelt of stale starch and scratched at Yifan's skin but that didn't stop Yixing from placing himself down on the taller male's thighs.

Yifan didn't flinch as Yixing moved in to hold him closer, he stayed in the firm position he'd originally been in and he could feel the way the younger's hands shook as they gripped the shirt on Yifan's chest. A moment passed between them then Yifan felt a warm set of droplets touch his neck.

He didn't speak as his Young Master sobbed, choking and gasping, directly into the curve of his neck. No coherent words left Yixing's mouth, no commands for Yifan to follow or demands for him to try and fulfil could help the younger feel better.

If exposure to Yixing had taught Yifan anything, physical contact—especially from Yifan—was all that the Young Master needed unless he said otherwise. He knew to remain still as the younger unloaded the emotions from within him. Yifan knew it was part of the shock of taking a life for the first time. He anticipated that the experience had the smaller shaken and riddled with guilt enough to ward him off taking such actions in the future.

They remained in that position before a couple of maids appeared in the doorway with a tray of breakfast and tentative smiles on their lips. No eyes were widened as they took in the sight of Yixing curled up on Yifan's lap but the lingering glances at their positioning had Yifan raising a single eyebrow at them. At that soft acknowledgement, the two women hurried along with sorting everything for Yixing's morning.

Only when they left did Yifan peel the younger away from his body, placing him on his feet and standing behind him to usher him back to bed. Yixing sat under his duvet, his hands rested on top of it as Yifan manoeuvred his tray of food onto his lap.

"Feed me," Yixing's voice was weak, gravelled and strained under the weight of crying.

And so, Yifan perched on the edge of the bed and began to scoop the translucent congee into a spoon and carry it up to the younger's lips where they were open and waiting for the food. It wasn't that Yixing acted infantile, he carried himself as a man hardened by life, in most instances, but when he knew Yifan would do anything asked of him, he let himself be indulged. From having Yifan feed or wash him, Yixing knew he could get his own way with Yifan. It was the delight of being Zhang Yixing.

That morning, however, it wasn't through the exploitation of Yifan's devotion. The servant could see how Yixing's eyes moved in and out of focus, how is normal morning chatter was dulled down to a series of random hums and how his chewing took those handfuls of moments longer. He was tired, the sudden rush of taking a life had left him with a fatigue that sleep alone couldn't fix.

 

«                »

 

There was always talk amongst the servants, workers and associates that worked in or frequented the House. Small things, petty things, were what was often discussed. Yifan didn't involve himself in any of it, the idle chatter wasn't his forté—nor was it an interest—and he didn't particularly care if the cook and the chauffeur were at odds with one another. Yifan observed, he soaked in his surroundings and let things run by him if it didn't affect the running of the House.

It was, however, when one of the maids was caught talking about the Young Master of the House that Yifan found stuck in the grind of the rumour mill. Since the night of _The_ _Incident_ had occurred, Yixing had plastered himself to Yifan's side both in search of comfort and safety. The Young Master refused to even sleep at night without knowing Yifan was near or sat beside his bed to watch over him. It was unhealthy, Yifan knew as much, to deprive himself of rest and personal solace in favour of keeping Yixing as happy as he could.

And so, when one of the maids entered the Young Master's bedroom to find Yixing alone, asleep with nightmares behind his eyes and Yifan's mouth falling out of his mouth. The maid had panicked, managed to smash the vase she had in her hands and wake Yixing up with the shattering noise. Yixing had screamed out for Yifan to save him, refused anybody else entry to his bedroom, not even his own mother, until he could see, hear and touch Yifan.

With the younger still dealing with the shock, guilt and reminders of taking a life with his own hands, Yifan was never too far away when he had to follow the orders given to him by Yixing's father.

As soon as Yixing's eyes caught sight of Yifan, the man left his bed halfway to find security in Yifan's chest. He mumbled of nightmares without ever specifically saying exactly what he'd seen as he'd slept. He said the same as he had after Yifan had found him in the bathroom.

_"She wouldn't listen to me. I told her not to push me, I told her to stop testing me because I'd do something I would regret."_

That moment had been enough for the House to talk about the ambiguity of the relationship between the Young Master and his protector, it had been thought of by many but never spoken of. It was well-known that there had been a shift in the professional set-up between the two men around the time when Yixing went from being nineteen to twenty, and it hadn't reverted back three years later.

Fueled by the fact that Yifan was thirty-four, unmarried and without children, the rumour had been that Yixing had refused to allow Yifan a life outside of the business, that the Young Master had _commanded_ all of Yifan's attention to himself.

While half true, Yixing often didn't like it when Yifan's mind was elsewhere, the entirety of it was hidden by Yifan's outwardly blankly dark expression. They didn't see how Yifan's stomach dropped whenever something was wrong with Yixing, they didn't see how Yifan's mouth ached to have Yixing's on his and they did not see the way that Yifan was devoted to Yixing, not through demand. There was more on the surface than what many expected.

The rumours of Yixing's suspected instability circulated the lower levels of the House, numerous people were doubting his capabilities to take over the business from his father because he mentally flinched after taking a life. Yifan and many of the others in the House that dealt with the grimmer facet of the Zhang family's dealings were desensitised to many things. Violence, human trafficking and death, they were all things that Yifan was employed to entangle himself in. Yixing, however, had been raised to be a thinker.

While being rather young and cutely faced, Yixing was a strategist who could choreograph any number of dark deeds. It was the execution of those plans that he wasn't versed in, hence Yifan's presence.

The boiling point of it all was that Yifan was expendable and Yixing was a Zhang. A Zhang couldn't be replaced. People who meant nothing, like Yifan, could. That was the simplicity of it. One of them mattered and Yifan knew his place.

With those questions raised by the staff closest to the family, it was Yifan's job to dampen them and reaffirm Yixing's strength among them all.

It was difficult to make everybody listen in the beginning, it confused Yifan endlessly how a maid with no experience with violence could judge his Young Master so harshly because of his shock. The ease came when Yifan told Yixing one night a few days after the whisperings had begun and something behind Yixing's eyes snapped into place.

"I want you to deal with it," he had said in a dark voice and Yifan could only look at his Young Master in wonder as he nodded. "I'm not weak."

Morning came with the quietest kind of stillness. There were no feet treading in the hallways, corridors or between rooms. Voices were quiet, all Yifan could hear were the puffing breaths from Yixing in the bed he was sat beside. The younger slept in bliss as the aura of something sinister crept in through the windows and swept across the decadently decorated carpets on the floors. Yifan left the bedroom, only to return twenty minutes later with Yixing exactly how he left him.

The servant was stood at the double bathroom sink, blood had stained up his arm and the beginning of his rolled up sleeve, his gun sat on the edge of the sink with that same sanguine fluid splattered up it only it was mingled in with gunpowder. A large bottle of extra strength bleach sat on the opposite side of the basin to the weapon with the cap already unscrewed. Yifan heard Yixing stir, the resounding noises of sheets rustling and feet pattering across from that room into the bathroom Yifan was stood in.

Yixing's muscular arms appeared around Yifan's waist with a close squeeze before his head poked around to see what the elder was doing at the sink.

Had it been a few days earlier, Yifan wouldn't have dared to clean himself off in Yixing's bathroom with the fear of triggering off some startling memories but Yixing didn't change a single bit as he observed Yifan. Instead, he watched with interest at how Yifan poured bleach into one of the porcelain bowls and completely dismantled the gun with minimal effort. He was sure to remove the bullets from the magazine before plunging the weapon into the bleach with a slight splash.

Yixing's hands moved from Yifan's waist to turn on the taps of the next sink over. They let the hot water run through before Yixing took the elder's fingers into his own, he made sure they were completely wet before he moved his hand to press three times on the pump of the soap that sat between the two basins. The younger anointed both of their hands in the Jasmine scented fluid and made sure to build up a lather as the red came away from Yifan's hands.

Yifan's chest grew warm as Yixing's fingers ran over his, moving over the calloused areas to the more sensitive with a caring pressure. It was an abnormal gesture, one completely out of the norm as Yixing's nails grazed over his gently.

When Yixing was happy with the progress they made, he brought their hands back under the flowing water and made sure every little bit was off Yifan's hands. It wasn't long before Yixing was clearing off the splatter up Yifan's forearm with a gentle sigh and within moments, Yixing's hands were popping the buttons of Yifan's shirt undone one by one.

The white fabric was peeled off Yifan's shoulders and placed into the same sink as the gun, leaving Yifan shirtless with smearings of red on his chest from the transfer. Yixing used his wet hands to wipe it all away, leaving fire under Yifan's skin wherever he touched, before pulling Yifan back into the bedroom and pushing him down onto the bed.

"Thank you," Yixing's voice was sleepily hoarse, vibrating on Yifan's neck as he spoke into it. Yixing crawled over the elder's laid out body whilst staying bent over the naked chest, his knees either side of Yifan's legs and then his hips. "You're so good to me."

Yixing's lips met Yifan's collarbones and inched their way down. Yifan didn't gulp, bite his lip or even clench at the sheets, he laid himself out with his legs parting as Yixing ran his lips down from his sternum to his navel.

"I'd do anything for you."

The younger laughed, his fingers undid the button on Yifan's black trousers and slid the zipper down tooth by tooth. There was a dark look on Yixing's smiling face as he looked up at Yifan from where he was, "I know."

 

«                »

 

"Zhang Yixing," a voice bit out from down the corridor and Yifan's spine turned rigid as he stood from the chair he'd placed himself upon in the study.

There was movement from Yixing's bedroom as he opened the door to greet the man who had moved in front of it, obscuring Yifan's view of his Young Master from the room opposite.

"Yes, baba?" Yixing's voice was firm and confident, nothing of the quaking mess it had been in the previous weeks and Yifan felt a slight dose of pride shoot up from within him.

"Would you come in here for a moment?" The older of the two Zhangs gestured behind himself to Yixing's study and Yifan moved out of the way of the desk to stand in the back corner.

He wasn't watching but Yifan assumed that Yixing had nodded as both men filtered into the study and Yixing's father noticed Yifan almost instantly.

"Ah, Yifan," he greeted vaguely, "just the man we were going to discuss."

Yixing's father settled himself down behind Yixing's desk in the plush leather chair and Yixing took the side that guests normally sat on, Yifan was not offered a seat, so he did not take one. When everything was fully quiet, Yifan watched how Yixing waited patiently for his father to start talking.

Said man drew in a breath before clasping his hands together, his mouth falling open as words tumbled out. "So, Yixing, it has come to my attention that one of our maids has met an untimely demise at the hands of your... _lapdog_."

Yifan didn't flinch as he was spoken about like he wasn't even in the room, he was more than used to it with years of experience in dealing with Yixing's father but Yixing, however, flashed Yifan a concerned look. With his expression schooled coldly, Yifan didn't show that the mere glance had affected him yet the smile in Yixing's eyes showed that the younger somehow knew.

"Now, Yixing, I need to know if this is you loosening your leash and him becoming a little trigger happy with his newfound freedom? Or, is this yet another one of your blunders that have caused loss of life?"

"It was me," Yixing responded flatly before Yifan could speak up to take the blame.

"I see," his father hummed and Yifan's hands balled into fists. The whole point of Yifan's presence was for him to be the one who was punished if anything they did was caught. "And may I ask why?"

"She was telling people that I wasn't mentally sound," Yixing adopted a stance of power, his shoulders broadened and legs were parted just so to make him a solid object. "She was defaming me and I asked Yifan to sort it out for me."

"And do you always deal with these things by killing people?"

"Baba," Yixing shuffled forward a little in his seat, "you always taught me that a Zhang cannot be weak.”

"Son, you've got a man here that many would murder to have by their side. He's capable and easily one of the best, and what's best is that he's entirely devoted to _you_. When I told you to exploit his love for you for your benefit, I didn't mean that you should welcome him to your bed with your clothes on the floor and legs parted. Love feeds loyalty in this business, you need to learn how to use it and twist it to your will."

Yixing's eyes fell from his father's, casting to the side in the opposite direction to where Yifan was stood. The words didn't hurt, Yixing's father had always been a more harsh man than others but Yixing's unwillingness to look at Yifan was what had the servant gulping in his dry throat.

"I gave you Yifan because you needed guidance and protection from somebody we could trust," Yixing's father continued. "He is not a device that lives to do your bidding; everybody in this House belongs to me. Including you. You're no different to anybody else just because you're my son, you are to live by the same laws as each person in this household and that means that you do not get to command _my_ people to do your bidding. That won’t change until you’re the one in charge.

"You cannot solve your petty problems by killing people when you get upset. You are not in charge here, you don't get to decide who lives and who dies. If you think that you can, there will be repercussions for your actions and remember, when people get into trouble, the dog," Yixing's father's hand indicates to Yifan casually, "is always the first to go. Now, have I made that clear, Yixing?"

The younger Zhang didn't say anything, he chose to pick at his fingers in a state of fear Yifan had never seen from Yixing before. It unnerved the servant a great deal.

"I said, _have I made that clear_?" The elder pushed with a faux calm attitude.

Yixing swallowed, Yifan could see the raw panic mixed with shame in Yixing's eyes as he shrunk down on himself slightly. "Yes, baba."

"Good. Remember that, Yixing."


	2. there's poison in this water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unedited.

Yifan witnessed how Yixing retreated into himself slightly over the days following his talk with his father, though he found himself by Yixing's side less and less with every day. Without it being said, he knew he was a pawn in the game Yixing's father played to control his son. Yifan's absence from his Young Master was a display of power exercised by the father over his only son.

It was suffocating to not be able to conduct himself in the ways he wanted to and Yifan found himself broiling with envy when he saw Yixing with Lu Han, his newly appointed second protector. Irked by the fact that Yixing appeared to warm up to Lu Han, Yifan focused on himself and attempting to show how loyal he could be to the entire Zhang family, not only the youngest member.

With long nights away from the House, the quality time he spent with his Young Master waned until Yifan could barely manage a glance at the younger. Yifan's phone constantly buzzed with phone calls and text messages from Yixing, all of them asking the same thing.

_'When can I see you again?'_

He tried to not let it get to his heart. It was difficult to stay away and remain focused when Yixing reached out to him time and time again.

The servant tried to ignore the way he'd hear Yixing fighting with his father as if he was desperate to have Yifan beside him again. Lu Han was more than capable, Yifan had heard about his close protection history through the some of the others he'd venture out of the House with. Long nights spent protecting those supervising drug shipments led to conversations between the men and women alike, all spoke highly of Lu Han's skill. It did nothing to soothe Yifan in any way.

Nobody could protect Yixing as well as Yifan could. There was no one single person who could guard their next leader like Yifan could. Like the Young Master's father had pointed out, love feeds loyalty, and nobody was loyal to Yixing like Yifan was.

In the short moments when Yixing got Yifan alone, often appearing at the elder's apartment in the darkest periods of the night with his lips hungry and his hands starved of touch. It was another rush for Yifan to have Yixing in his own bet, to press the younger into the mattress and peel away at every façade until the rawest form of Zhang Yixing appeared.

Their trysts changed, Yifan found. It became less like Yixing fulfilling what he needed and, instead, grew to seem more like Yixing sating a craving for something he desired. His hands clung to Yifan's shoulders as the elder moved in and out of him, his lips latched like Yifan was his only source of air and his body presented itself as a gift for the elder. There was something new there, a desperation, a feeling Yifan had never seen Yixing show before.

Yifan's Young Master didn't leave once they were done, he would remain beneath Yifan's duvet with his body bare and his legs tangled between the elder's like they were lovers. Words often went unspoken, as they always had before but there were snippets sent Yifan's way when Yixing was in those moments of honesty as his consciousness drifted from his grasp.

_"I'll never leave your side if you never leave mine."_

_"I don't know how to breathe without you.”_

_“Will you ever tell me that you love me? I always want you to say it."_

With every word, Yixing flooded into Yifan's hands but when morning came around, Yixing was gone like he'd seeped out through the gaps between Yifan's fingers.

 

«                »

 

Yixing’s back was pressed to Yifan’s chest, his shoulder blades moved as he breathed in deeply before taking a shot at his target. The kickback from the gun shook through his body, knocking him into Yifan a little more and Yifan’s hands dropped to Yixing’s waist to keep him upright. Yifan looked down at the target and ground his teeth as he saw that Yixing’s attempt had barely made it onto the paper humanoid shape.

“You need to be surer in your stance, Yixing,” Yifan reminded him. “And you don’t need to breathe so heavily before you shoot, let it be fluid.”

“I’m trying,” Yixing’s grip shifted on the handle of the weapon and Yifan moved his hands to cover Yixing’s.

“Be ready but don’t be tense,” Yifan whispered as he edged even closer to Yixing, allowing his body to wrap around Yixing’s body and feel how his stomach and chest moved as he kept his exhales steady.

For a moment, they stood there, just feeling the presence of one another. Yifan brought the gun up to Yixing’s eye and guided Yixing through the motions of cocking the gun again, he used his right index finger to guide Yixing’s back to the trigger.

“Just relax,” Yifan murmured as he pressed his finger over Yixing’s, pulling the trigger back and firing the gun.

The kickback was still noticeable, but Yixing remained firm on his feet.

Yixing let out a laugh as he realised his shot had made it closer to the central dot on the figure printed in front of him. He released the gun and Yifan took it into one of his hands easily, watching with a smile as Yixing ran up to his target and pushed his finger through the hole he’d made. He looked back at Yifan, his eyes disappearing behind the mounds his smiling cheeks made, and Yifan lifted the gun again.

Yixing didn’t even falter as he observed Yifan.

Yifan looked through the viewfinder and only looked for half a second prior to pumping the firing mechanism once. The bullet whizzed through the air and went straight past Yixing’s hand, right through the black dot in the heart position, and all Yixing did was laugh. It was a bright and boundless sound, so vibrant as it echoed around the soundproofed room.

Yixing withdrew his hand and rose onto the tips of his toes to place a peck onto Yifan’s nose. He giggled as he did so, and when he pulled Yifan’s hair to tilt his head back to bite firmly at the flesh on Yifan’s neck. Yifan gasped loudly, the sound choking in his throat as Yixing clamped onto his windpipe. It was Yixing who pulled away, grinning as he ran his fingers over the mark he had left on Yifan’s skin.

“There,” Yixing chimed. “Now, it’s clear that you’re mine.”

From there, Yixing’s eyes slide away from Yifan’s neck, looking beyond him and out of room to the viewing area. Yifan followed his gaze and met eyes with Yixing’s father, the man ground his jaw as he motioned his hand in a sweeping movement, beckoning. Yixing gripped Yifan’s arm firmly, he pulled Yifan from the room until they both stood in front of Yixing’s father.

The man spoke a single word, it was enough to have Yifan gripping the gun in his hand that little bit tighter, “Yixing.”

Yixing, like Yifan hadn’t expected, didn’t recoil at the call of his name. Rather, he stepped around Yifan and turned his back to his father to run a finger over the indentations his teeth had left. Yixing turned his neck to regard his father behind him.

“Hello, baba,” Yixing smiled. “Ge was teaching me how to shoot better.”

“I can see that,” Yixing’s father gritted out.

“I did make quite a bit of a mess last time, didn’t I?” Yixing giggled and stroked Yifan’s Adam’s apple. “It’s less for you and Ge to clean up if I can kill better.”

Yixing’s father hummed, “Your mother and I were under the impression that you wouldn’t want to partake in such activities.”

“There’s no harm in learning, right?” Yixing nuzzled into Yifan’s collarbone and let his head rest there, draping his arm across Yifan’s other shoulder. “Surely, if I learn how to defend myself, I’ll need Yifan less. Wouldn’t that make you happy?”

Yixing’s father didn’t respond for a few moments and Yifan had his head bowed slightly, slipping into a submissive stance as Yixing claimed him right in front of his father.

“Remember what I said, though, Yixing. I won’t hesitate to take your pup away from you.”

“And, as a Zhang, I want to defend what is _mine_.”

 

«                »

 

In what Yifan suspected to be extra effort to keep he and Yixing apart for a while longer, a newer recruit was placed under Yifan's charge to be trained and become well-versed in how the House worked. Byun Baekhyun was an impeccable new member to the group, Yifan found, and he was more than eager to learn from his elders. With his first weeks in the House littered with the internal feuding of the Cold War happening between Yixing and his father, Baekhyun didn't yet recognise that he was yet another pawn placed onto the board.

At the beginning, Yifan didn't see it either. It was normal for a new recruit to remain at their mentor's side permanently. They ate together, they lived together and they worked together. It was to foster the kind of loyalty needed, to make the faction successful.

Yifan only became dubious of the whole situation when he found himself training Baekhyun wherever Yixing was. If the Young Master was working from within the House then Yifan and his mentee would only be a few rooms over or if Yixing was out then they, too, would be close enough to feel one another's presence but too far for Yifan to be the first responder if something were to happen to Yixing.

The muscles of Yifan's legs burned to take themselves back to Yixing, to shield him from everything he knew Lu Han would never be capable of and the distant look in Yixing's eyes told Yifan that his Young Master wish he would do the same.

With Baekhyun growing stronger and stronger, he became more confident. His knife skills improved, his grouping while shooting tightened and his brain for working together as a tiny moving part of something much larger than himself became far more conscious. It left pride in Yifan's heart whenever his trainee would look back to him in a silent request for affirmation.

There were things Baekhyun did that drove suspicion through Yifan, making him retreat away from his trainee every so often with the taste of something uneasy on the back of his throat. Between the skilful sessions in exercise rooms and the days spent strategizing in studies, Baekhyun grew more and more comfortable with Yifan in a sense that the mentor wasn't entirely comfortable with.

With them living in such close proximity of one another, a less formal relationship basis was a given between the two men and it was easy to ignore the fleeting touches in the beginning. They were nothing at all. A few brushes on an arm. A foot skimming past an ankle. Fingers knocking against each other. It was normal and natural until Baekhyun's confidence grew beyond Yifan's expectations.

Those once momentary touches became presses and holds, making Yifan look at his mentee with his eyebrows creased and his body pulling back away from the younger. He found the audacity of the nineteen-year-old beyond his expectation, especially when they were in plain sight of others.

It continued to the point when Yifan wasn't even surprised to see Baekhyun stood at his bedroom door, entering in his night clothes with a prowl that had numerous feline qualities. Yifan observed how the younger moved.

"I know you like younger men, Yifan," Baekhyun whispered as he slipped into his mentor's bed. "I'm sure I can be just as good." Baekhyun crawled closer to Yifan and the older stared at the teenager with a frown. "I could even be better."

His fingers brushed up Yifan's bare arm, his expression was pulled into an expression that was clearly supposed to be sultry but Yifan's body burned like it was trying to recoil away from Baekhyun's advances. Instead of verbally rejecting his apprentice, Yifan left. His bed was no longer appealing when touched by somebody other than Yixing, his arm burned like it had been doused in acid and he didn't realise where he'd headed towards until he was there.

Nobody working through the night blinked when Yifan walked into the House and up the stairs, the only person that eyed him suspiciously was Lu Han, who stood outside of Yixing's bedroom door. Nevertheless, he didn't try to stop Yifan from entering, he turned his head to the side to not watch as Yifan slipped into the darkened room.

Yixing's bed was barely visible in the pitch black room but memory took him to where Yixing was almost instantly. He hesitated at the bedside for a few seconds before crouching down to reach out a hand and brush it through some of the hair on his Young Master's head.

"Master," he whispered coaxingly, rubbing on Yixing's scalp in the process.

Yifan repeated himself a few times before the younger's head moved under his palm, his breath shuddering as he inhaled deeply and the elder relaxed just hearing it.

"Yifan?" Yixing's voice was heavy and confused, his sleepiness showing in the silhouette in front of Yifan's eyes.

Without speaking, the older of the two moved forward to join their mouths and Yixing's response of digging his fingers into Yifan's hair to pull at the strands painfully was instant, making Yifan feel like he could finally breathe again. Only a few breaths had passed when the younger began to tug Yifan onto the bed, peeling his clothes off and drawing him down under the duvet with needy hands.

The sun was rising as they finished expressing their longing and hunger for one another, light pushed itself between the gaps of Yixing's curtains and illuminated the both of them as they laid across the younger's mattress. Yifan's arms were behind his head, Yixing's thigh was over his waist and the younger's head rested on his shoulder.

"It doesn't feel like you're mine anymore," Yixing whispered into Yifan's bare chest as his fingers scratched small brands onto the skin and leaving visibly red trails behind themselves. A temporary mark. One to go with the many other ones indented or sucked into Yifan's body. "I don't like it."

"I'm always yours," Yifan reaffirmed and Yixing's smile was brilliantly wide as it grew out of his frown.

 

«                »

 

As the days passed, Baekhyun became more and more shameless, much to Yifan's discomfort and confusion. The positive flipside of that being that Yixing watched them far more closely and began being far more open with Yifan in front of others.

When Baekhyun would curl a finger around Yifan's, Yixing would always be sure to leave where he stood to pull Yifan's head down to nibble possessively at the elder's bottom lip once Yifan had pulled out of the hold the teenager tried to establish. When Baekhyun would cling to Yifan's arm, Yixing would wait for Yifan to extract himself from Baekhyun's clutches and Yixing would take his place instantly with Yifan never trying to shake him off. When Baekhyun leant in to close to talk to Yifan, Yixing would wait until the trainee had finished and made sure to lick and nip away any remnants of his presence on Yifan's skin.

It was a game Yifan grew increasingly tired off, the persistence of Baekhyun after so much rejection didn't sit well in his veins and Yixing grew increasingly more rapacious with his first protector.

Across everything, Yifan found Lu Han to be of great help, despite the second protector's preference of laughing at the competition the two younger men had over Yifan's attention rather than aiding in Yifan's escape. It lessened Yifan's strain when Lu Han offered to share responsibility for Baekhyun as guarding Yixing became increasingly difficult when he'd be irate over the idea of Yifan being alone with Baekhyun for too long.

Nonetheless, it was always Yixing's bed Yifan got into once the sun had gone down.

 

«                »

 

At the polite request of Lu Han, Yixing's father allowed the two protectors to split the balance between guarding Yixing and mentoring Baekhyun more evenly. The wish was granted given that Yixing's temperament changed completely when he was with or without Yifan.

Having the taller male by his side forced the Young Master to focus and think straight, instead of being plagued by thoughts that his favourite servant would no longer be his and Yifan could get some much-needed reprieve from his unashamedly forward trainee. With every meeting the younger had, the House's associates noted how he was far more lenient with his taller bodyguard watching over him and the ever-turning wheels of the business began to run as if freshly greased.

While Yixing's father wasn't entirely happy that his son latched obsessively to Yifan, he could note how different Yixing was—with the elder by his side, the Young Master was comfortable with his power and had no qualms over exerting that over others. It was abnormal for Yifan to not have been sent out on any assignments with a target in his brain and a gun in his hand in such a long time but he guessed that was another one of the tests given to Yixing.

The son was proving to his father that Yifan wasn't merely a weapon he used whenever he was unhappy with the turnout of something. A positive consequence was that Yifan overheard the other servants discuss how Yixing had matured in such a swift manner, half blaming Yixing's father for not putting his foot down over his son's activities earlier and placing the rest of the blame on Yifan for being so willing to please the spoilt young man so readily.

Yixing was a flicker that became a flame when he worked hard enough with the right mindset and every person who came into contact with him could pick that out. It was like a trip switch had been flicked back up, serving to power Yixing in a more positive way that Yifan could see.

No matter how often Yifan had explained to Yixing that having a strong mind was equally as important as having a physical presence, the affirmation from his father was the missing puzzle piece. The son had moulded himself on his father—a man built on the blood and bones of others. Yixing, while having the body and capabilities for such things, was far more like his mother in disposition.

The Young Master was a strategist, a creative one, that served to better the logistics and legal façade of the operation. Not to be the physical force that Yifan, Lu Han and Baekhyun represented.

Not that Yixing couldn't give as good as he would ever get, he had been trained throughout of his life to best numerous disciplines of physical combat. Although his only real interaction with violence had been the night he took a life for the first time. The general presence of Yifan, and Lu Han, was more than enough to stave off any potential threats to the health of the Young Master.

  

«                »

 

 Yixing's mouth moved, the sounds vibrated in the air and Yifan's brain processed the words: "I love you."

The taller stood with a rigid back as he gripped the handle on Yixing's door to exit the room and his heart felt as though it had frozen over, shattered and thawed with every syllable spoken. Yifan's shirt was undone, his trousers freshly pulled over his legs and he looked over his shoulder at the curled up form beneath the thick comforter on the bed. Yixing wasn't looking at Yifan, the elder wasn't even sure if the statement was a figment of his imagination.

It could have been something he wanted so much that his brain had made it up to fill the void only his Young Master could fill.

"I love you," Yixing repeated and Yifan knew it wasn't something fabricated by his subconscious.

He didn't know what to say, he never anticipated for the twenty-three-year-old to ever say such a thing. The servant had always thought that Yixing's need for his presence leant more towards greed and other covetous vices, never love. It shocked Yifan, it elevated him to a higher level while the hellish part of his mind tried to drag him down again.

"Okay," was what he managed to cough up as a response as he pulled the door open ahead of him.

"I mean it," Yixing still didn't look back at the elder. "I'll find a way to prove it to you. I'm yours. Just like you're mine."

Yifan's hand slipped off the door handle and ran through his hair once, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. Yixing didn't say anything else but stood up from his bed, soaking his body in the morning sunlight and Yifan watched him until he disappeared into the bathroom. When the shower was heard running, Yifan stepped out of the bedroom and into the hallway, making his way down and brushing off Lu Han and Baekhyun who tried to approach him in the grandiose foyer.

The protector had never gone into shock before, not when he'd first seen somebody take their last breath or caught eyes with somebody who knew they'd be at the utter mercy of whoever bid the highest amount for them. Having grown up in a less than honeyed environment, Yifan had seen more than what was healthy before he'd signed his life over to the Zhang family. Nothing shook Yifan's core, he was sheltered in a fortress that defended him from his own emotions and feelings. The only one that had ever crept in through the cracks were those he felt for Yixing.

When he first met the younger as a teenager, he thought he'd ruin his life, hinder his ability progress under the Zhangs but as Yixing blossomed and grew, Yifan's darkened heart did too.

He hadn't anticipated for Yixing to have his claws sunk so deeply into Yifan's skin that removing them would do more damage than leaving them embedded there for the flesh to knit itself around as he healed. And yet, those three words being confessed felt like Yixing's grip on him was no longer just around his heart but inlaid it with talons of light.

Yifan's lungs were heaving as he made it to his own apartment, his hands tingling with numbness as he pressed them against his own tiled shower wall and his mouth repeated _'I love you, too'_ into the steamed air over and over again.

It was all he could do, Yixing stripped him of all his power and left him defenceless. The Young Master wasn't a killer at heart but he was more than capable of making a man feel like he was dying.

 

«                »

 

Nothing more was said as they days moved by in a haze, Yifan didn't dare broach the subject with Yixing nor did he disclose to anybody else what his Young Master had confessed to him. Few people would have believed him anyhow, a spoilt heir with a faulty moral compass like Yixing didn't express love to people, that wasn't how those kinds of people functioned.

And yet there the memory was in Yifan's head playing on a constant loop the elder couldn't stop nor shake off. It was like Yixing had imprinted himself under Yifan's skin like a hot iron branding rod to his muscles.

Yixing said nothing either. His radio silence, however, could be attributed to the lack of active response from Yifan and the avid fear of rejection that came with any such declaration. It made Yifan regret leaving, regret merely _'okay'_ , but there was nothing he could do. Time didn't ever move backwards, even the present slipped into the past with every coming moment and what had come and gone slipped away from him like sand in a timer. Seconds became minutes. Minutes became hours. Hours became days. Days became weeks. That's how the concept worked and the longer Yifan left it, the faster all those measurements turned into one and it became too late.

He wasn't like Yixing, he didn't have the right to speak freely to whomever he wished, he gave that up when he signed his life away to the future of the Zhang family's business. Yixing was so very powerful and Yifan had nothing to his name other than a simple _'I love you'_ from a man who essentially owned him.

It was wrong, it wasn't healthy, yet Yifan continued to obsess. It was a compulsion to be with Yixing, he could take everything he wanted and it would never be enough to slake the thirst that burned for his Young Master. At thirty-four, Yifan should have been past the need to overdose on the totality of another man—especially one of twenty-three years of age that could order his death with a mere hum.


	3. the words are falling out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please see the tags for warnings!

When Yifan's apartment door was found ajar, the protector's hand was around the grip of his gun and his feet moved silently as he searched each room one by one before making it to his bedroom and he knocked it open with a gentle tap of the handgun's muzzle. He stopped when he took a single step in, watching the person sat on the edge of his bed holding the beautifully carved Ghurka knife Yifan had been gifted many years before on his birthday.

"Master," he greeted in a whisper, making the younger jolt slightly and Yifan feared he had cut himself with the sharp blade.

"Gege?" Yixing asked equally as softly.

"Yes, Master," Yifan stepped forward, lowering his gun and shifting so that he was in line with Yixing's front. There was a small black bag, a rucksack next to the younger's feet and Yifan waited until the other spoke with a soft hum.

"Do you love me?"

Yifan didn't skip a beat. "Of course I do."

Yixing twirled the knife in his fingers, spinning the pointed tip of his forefinger and Yifan had never seen something look so pretty when held before. Yifan moved down to his knees, crawling between Yixing's parted legs and the younger stopped the knife moving in his hand.

The hand that wasn't holding the blade ran up Yifan's face, across his cheek and into his hair. The grip Yixing had on the tresses was painful but Yifan didn't flinch, he didn't even startle when his head was tilted backwards and the knife was pressed over where his jugular thumped in his flesh.

"Will you always love me?"

"How could I ever love somebody more, Master?"

"Do you trust me not to kill you?"

"It doesn’t matter if I die," Yifan's voice was rough and deep from the angle he was held at, "my life belongs to you. You can take it whenever you please."

There was silence before the knife was removed from where it had begun to dig into the skin in a gentle swipe, forming a small cut where it had been. Yixing didn't have to speak for Yifan to know he appreciated the response, it seemed to appease something within Yixing to have Yifan so tightly wound around his finger.

"I know how to make you believe that I love you," Yixing declared as he sheathed the knife and slid it into Yifan's wooden dresser. "I'm going to let you control me."

The fingers in Yifan's hair slipped out and rubbed over where his neck had surely been marked.

"Control you, Master?"

"Uh huh," Yixing hummed out, leaning forward to brush his lips along Yifan's cheekbone to where his ear was. "I'm going to relinquish myself to you and be your slave, let you take my life into your hands and do what you like with it."

It shouldn't have, but the words mingled in with how Yixing's tongue flicked over Yifan's ear was enough to have him so aroused that his head began to spin on an axis. The younger didn't stop there, he nudged the backpack towards Yifan and giggled into his ear as if whatever was to come was going to thrill him.

"Open it for your Master, Gege. I've brought you some gifts."

Yixing moved back to allow Yifan to have access to the bag and the elder unzipped it slowly, only making Yixing's smile turn more sultry as their hearts began to beat faster. Yifan dipped his hands in and pulled out the handful of items that occupied the bag to reveal them to Yixing.

There was a thick piece of black fabric, a set of metal handcuffs and what Yifan knew to be a cock ring in a pearly white colour.

"I want you to have fun," Yixing moved his hands across Yifan's shoulders and down his ribs, pulling on his shirt to untuck it from his trousers. "You're in control tonight, Gege. Do what you like to me because I'm yours."

Yixing began to strip off, not breaking eye contact as his jacket, shirt and slacks were slid off over his limbs and into a haphazard pile on the floor. He grabbed Yifan’s empty hand and wrapped it around his soft cock, using his grip to toy with himself until he suddenly let go. Yixing took the cock ring from Yifan’s fingers and slid it on, groaning gently as he did so.

“Come on, Gege,” Yixing whined, contorting his face into the purest image of innocence. “Maybe you want to watch me play with myself?” Yixing’s hands slipping down his own body, a solitary finger dipping where Yifan couldn’t see between his legs and Yixing’s spine arched gently.

“You know what?” Yixing breathed out after a minute of Yifan just observing him, a terrifyingly dark smirk tugging on his lips. “I’ve always wondered how you’d react if you watched me being fucked by somebody else.” Yixing giggled, his hand moving between his legs. “Or if I was the one fucking them? I think you’d hate that, somebody else enjoying my body, touching me, _using_ me. You’d go crazy. I think you’d take one of your pretty little knives and kill them, wouldn’t you? You just wouldn’t be able help yourself. You’d snap.”

Most days, Yifan would think that there was no subtext to what Yixing was saying, but Yifan could read into it. Yixing’s gaze said it all. He wasn’t talking about what Yifan would do, _at all_ , Yixing was telling Yifan what _he_ would do if Yifan bedded somebody else.

Yixing whispering, “They do say, the first kill’s always the hardest,” only served to confirm Yifan’s suspicions in the end.

Yifan stepped around, shifting so that Yixing was in full view to him. He drew in a breath before he took off his own clothes, he moved and knelt onto the bed. Yifan hovered over Yixing for a few moments, blinking as Yixing removed his hands and licked them a few times over. With a tight grip, Yifan held Yixing’s wrists with one hand and clipped the handcuffs on him, having looped them around a bedpost.

A half-smile crept onto Yifan’s face, taking in the sight of Yixing splendidly naked and clasped to the bed.

Having started at Yixing’s neck, Yifan’s mouth crept down to his navel and bit it softly, leaving a red mark in its wake. Yixing shuddered, breath shortening and body tensing slightly. He relaxed once Yifan laughed against his skin. Yifan took the head of Yixing’s cock into his mouth, using his teeth as gently as he could to hold it in place before he began to flick his tongue against the sensitive slit. Yixing’s legs twitched but Yifan’s hands were already there, holding them firmly in place.

He could feel Yixing straining against his hands, trying to hook his legs around Yifan’s head, like he normally did. Yixing whimpered at the feeling of Yifan’s tongue digging into the slit and Yifan had never felt more in control. He fingered Yixing with urgency, aware that his master preferred the process to be quickened as he could easily relax against the intrusions.

It was easily to tell when Yixing was comfortable, so Yifan withdrew his fingers, and went about kissing the inner flesh of Yixing’s thighs. There was nothing more he enjoyed more than the way Yixing’s muscles quivered under his lips, his fingers curled around Yixing’s knees as he strained against the touch. There was a phantom sweet taste to it, which he licked up and sucked into his mouth.

“Gege,” Yixing sighed, in pleasure and impatience.

Yifan ignored Yixing’s quiet pleading in favour of bending his legs up to his chest. Kisses were shifted solely to licks as Yifan dipped down below Yixing’s cock and dragged his tongue over the tight, pink ring of his ass. The whine that left Yixing’s mouth drove Yifan to push his tongue in, to flatten his tongue and rub it over the warm walls. Yixing’s hips twitched, as did his hole, whenever Yifan probed over the tender area of his prostate.

Yixing was always so sensitive there, almost too sensitive - hence, his aversion to drawn out fingering. Still, Yifan adored it. He toyed with it, focusing his efforts to the spot that made him cry out and pull against the restrains his wrists were kept in.

Yifan hooked his arms around his lover’s legs, to draw them around his head, and Yixing locked his knees behind Yifan’s neck. Still, Yifan’s tongue moved around, working until Yixing gave in and ground down on his face.

Just as the pitch in Yixing’s calls went almost inaudibly high, Yifan pulled back and wiped up the saliva that had coated his chin.

Having withdrawn completely, Yifan picked up the black ribbon and tied it around Yixing’s head, to cover his eyes. The glinting white of teeth, framed by lips in a smile, were what Yifan could see under the tip of a straight nose. Even without his eyes showing, Yixing’s face was unique, alluring to each part of Yifan.

He couldn’t hold himself back much longer than that, having Yixing completely at his mercy on the bed. Yifan could do anything to him. He gave no warning as he thrust his way into Yixing, his master’s body turning slightly rigid at the suddenness of it. That didn’t stop Yifan from holding onto Yixing’s hips, relishing in the tightness as he didn’t halt his pull out - and subsequently push back in.

With a lease of life, that he often wasn’t allowed to unleash on Yixing, Yifan fucked him as hard as he could. Yixing loosened up the more Yifan moved, to the point where he was limp under him, whines caught up in his throat.

It was Yifan who grunted and growled, chasing his own pleasure as he ogled at how the cock ring made Yixing’s cock swell up more than he’d ever seen it do before. It was such a handsomely purplish-red that Yifan discovered a bloodlust curl up in his lower stomach. It was there, just ready to pounce. He channelled part of that to his right hand, which reached up and wrapped around Yixing’s throat.

Yixing’s mouth hung open for a moment, in complete shock, until he smirked then bit his lip. His elevated moans vibrated under Yifan’s hands and he pushed down even more, squeezing where he felt Yixing’s pulse. He groaned as he felt Yixing’s heart pick up in pace. It was racing, trying to push oxygen up to his brain, only to find it blocked by pressure.

The bed rocked, the handcuffs clinked, and Yixing turned into a heated, sweat-slicked creature beneath him - it was everything Yifan wanted to ever do to his master.

Being choked and barely able to vocalise anything, the building of Yixing’s orgasm could only be tracked in how he tried to meet Yifan’s hips. Though, he failed, without the leverage of his hands to help him. The insides and backs of his thighs bruised with how Yifan pushed almost all of his strength into meeting them.

Just as Yixing’s cock pulsed erratically, Yifan released his throat, and the way Yixing gasped, gulping air, as he came was utter perfection to Yifan. The hand mark around his master’s throat was the most exquisite necklace he’d ever seen him wear. Yifan’s gaze slipped up and down Yixing’s body.

He pulled out and came all over Yixing’s stomach, some of it reaching Yixing’s face as he jerked himself off furiously. When each string of his cum had fallen down onto Yixing’s body, Yifan sat back on his haunches and simply stared.

Yixing looked delicious.

He crawled forward and drew in a breath, smelling the sweat that had pearled up on top of skin. He stayed there for a while and enjoyed how Yixing shifted uncomfortably, blatantly lost in what was happening.

“What are you doing?” The question was so muted, Yixing edged towards sounding fearful in his breathlessness.

It was ignored.

Yifan bit so hard that he drew blood. He felt it flow out against his lips, vaguely metallic and abundantly warm. He moved to Yixing’s hip and repeated the action there. And again at his chest, his thighs, his biceps, his shoulders, his neck. He couldn’t stop himself from sinking his teeth into Yixing’s flesh, feeling it break and give under the strain. What made it all the more better, was that Yixing was sobbing by the time he finished.

A lick of his tongue drew the blood on his lips into his mouth. He treasured the taste of it, all saccharine and metallic.

“Do I look I’m yours now?” Yixing whimpered, his chest heaved and tears streaked down his cheeks from under the blindfold. His cock leaked copiously onto his navel, wonderfully hard and beautifully coloured. Yifan wanted to fuck him again. Cum and blood on Yixing’s body were the two things Yifan prized the most. “Is it really that pretty?”

Yifan didn’t tear his eyes from Yixing’s soiled form, but nodded.

“Can you show me?” More water droplets soaked all the way to Yixing’s jaw, as gorgeous as Yifan had ever seen him be.

Yifan unlocked the cuffs and scooped Yixing off from the bed, he sat them both down on the floor, with his master in his lap. He always did love seeing how small Yixing was compared to him. He really felt like he could protect Yixing. He felt, for a glimmer of a moment, that he could _dominate_ Yixing.

With the removal of the blindfold, Yixing’s lips pulled up into a smile as he touched over the blotches of crimson red and concord purple, “It’s so beautiful, Gege. I’m really yours now.”

 

«                »

 

“Get Baekhyun to back off,” Yifan hissed as he grabbed Lu Han’s arm to stop him from passing in the hallway. “Yixing’ll kill him if he doesn’t stop.”

“What do you expect me to do about it? Just tell Yixing not to hurt him.”

“You really think me being defensive over Baekhyun is going to help keep him safe from Yixing? Both of us know that Yixing wouldn’t see it that way, he’d think I’m fucking that kid and murder him.” Yifan looked up and down the corridor before he leant in. “Baekhyun’s put himself in danger here. And you know Yixing would not hold back in his punishments.”

Lu Han sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “I’ll do what I can with Baekhyun but he’s like Yixing, if he wants something, he’ll get it. And he’ll do anything for it.”

“The only problem is, Baekhyun isn’t Yixing. He doesn’t have the weight of the organisation on his side and should Yixing call for an end to all of this, you know it would be over.”

“I said I’ll do my best, Yifan. Just stay focused on Yixing. God forbid that you fuck up and we all die.”

Yifan laughed at that, “I’m not doing this for Baekhyun, I’m doing it for Yixing. I don’t want to be apart from him anymore and I know his father will kill me, should anything happen to Baekhyun. Do you understand me? I couldn’t care less whether or not Baekhyun dies.”

 

«                »

 

Baekhyun had backed off, giving Yifan room to breathe and Yixing more of a reason to be happy. He was still living in Yifan’s apartment, flitting between the rooms and making himself scarce whenever Yixing invited himself over. Still, Yifan watched his mentee with interest, noting how he interacted with others and the way he moved. Often, Yifan found Baekhyun looking right back at him.

Whilst getting dressed, Yifan had felt hands on his hips and instantly pushed his fingers into the hair of the man knelt before him.

"That's not a good idea, Baekhyun," Yifan warned.

"Why not? I feel like having fun, don't you?" Baekhyun chuckled as he began to fiddle with Yifan's belt. "We had a late night, maybe this can help you sleep."

"I won't have any problems sleeping."

"But I will," Baekhyun huffed and Yifan finished pulling his shirt over his head, releasing it when it sat on his hips. "Weren't you commanded to take care of me? Letting me do this is what I'll benefit from the most. Please, Yifan."

Yifan frowned, grinding his jaw as he looked at Baekhyun. "I don't think that's entirely true, do you?"

"Why won't you look after me? The boss asked you to do that," Baekhyun's eyes were determined and Yifan knew he was trying to burrow into Yifan's soul. "Or, are you only listening to Yixing?"

Yifan felt repulsed by the sight of revulsion on Baekhyun's face.

“He’ll kill you,” Yifan hissed, gripping to Baekhyun’s hair so hard his knuckles went white.

“You saw how he was after he killed that business partner,” Baekhyun sneered, fingers still playing with Yifan’s belt. “He doesn’t have the nerve. He’s a spoilt little brat with daddy issues whose found somebody who’ll look after him like his daddy didn’t, only that somebody can fuck him until he sobs. He’s nothing compared to me.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Baekhyun,” Yifan laughed darkly, pushing him away. “I told you this as a warning. We, both you and I, mean don't mean a thing in this life. We either burn out on our own or we’re put out. Yixing isn’t nothing."

"Then why does he get to twist you around his little finger?"

"He doesn't," Yifan stepped away from Baekhyun, "I choose to be there. I’ve put myself there. And that's something you should respect. When it comes to anything in this organisation, he is who you answer to and who you'll always lose to."

"And what about when it comes to you? Will I always lose to Zhang Yixing then, too?"

Again, Yifan laughed, "Why would you ever think that you could win?"

 

«                »

 

Yixing’s threat towards Baekhyun couldn’t have been more public if Yixing tried. Nothing with Yixing happens by accident, not anymore. So him appearing when it was time for Baekhyun to undertake his sparring practice with Lu Han and Yifan was no mistake. Yifan thought it would be a silent warning, one where Yixing hovered in the background until he was satisfied that his point had been made.

It was anything but that.

“Let me fight Baekhyun,” Yixing called into the room as he approached. He unclasped his watch and removed his family rings. “I want to see what my lover has been wasting our time on.”

Yifan could see how Lu Han’s eyebrows rose upwards at the word _‘lover’_ as he turned towards him. It was plain to see that he hadn’t anticipated for Yixing to ever refer to Yifan as such, and Yifan was comforted by the proof. He saw as realisation dawned upon Lu Han that Yixing’s intention was likely to be to harm Baekhyun. Like Yixing felt he needed to prove himself and smite Baekhyun down.

“Are we really going to let them fight like this?” Lu Han whispered as he approached Yifan, both with their eyes on Yixing readjusting himself in his black slacks and white, fitted silk shirt to be able to fight.

Yifan shrugged, “Yixing does as he pleases.”

“But Baekhyun--”

“It’s your job to look after Yixing, not fret over the inabilities of a new recruit,” Yifan told him sternly, darkly. “Do your job and let me worry if things get too far.”

It took Lu Han a few moments before he clamped his hand onto Yifan’s bicep, he pulled Yifan’s body around until they were facing one another, “You’re going to let him kill Baekhyun, aren’t you? What happened to you wanting to keep yourself at Yixing’s side?”

“Yixing won’t kill him, not now,” Yifan dismissed quietly when he was waved over by Yixing.

“Kiss me,” Yixing commanded and Yifan instantly obeyed, open mouthed and accepting of Yixing’s tongue when he pushed it forward. Yifan pulled back and Yixing ran his fingers across his jaw. “Thank you.”

Yifan stepped out of the way and looked over his shoulder at how Yixing calmly walked towards the spring floor of the sparring area. Baekhyun immediately got into a fighting stance, his hands poised in front of his body and legs bent to give him instant power, should he need it. Yixing, however, did nothing of the sort.

Yixing’s posture was casual. _Cocky._ It reminded Yifan of when he first started to teach Yixing to fight, how he would circle around the young boy and test him because he knew he was better.

There was nothing more attractive to Yifan than seeing Yixing laiden with arrogance. He was everything Yifan had fashioned into.

It was Baekhyun who made the first lunge. Yixing dodged it easily, laughing. It seemed like that’s how the first few minutes went - Baekhyun made failed attacks, Yixing brushed them off with confident ease. The few punches and kicks that Baekhyun did land were to Yixing’s stomach and ribs. However, Yixing always went for the neck and the knees.

“Don’t hold back, Baekhyun,” Yixing knowingly taunted, over and over, seeing how the recruit put everything into what he was doing. “You really don’t need to pull your punches for me.”

Yet, everything Baekhyun tried, Yixing had something to respond with, be it a kick or an attempted chokehold. Yixing ridiculed him with his laughter, with each patronising smile, and Yifan could see how it wound Baekhyun up. He was coiling tighter and tighter with each new jibe at his abilities.

Yifan felt pride swell in his chest.

“He’s making him angry,” Lu Han whispered. “He’s going to be out for blood soon.”

“No, he’s making him sloppy. Look at how few credible hits he’s landing now,” Yifan pointed out, knowing the tactic as one of his own. “His balance, his power, his accuracy, they’re all over the place because he’s angry. He’s losing composure, so he’s losing control.”

One of Yixing’s kicks struck Baekhyun directly onto the temple and cheek and blood splattered across Yixing’s shirt and down onto the ground. Baekhyun shook his head, though Yifan knew he’d be dizzy from the blow, and Yixing took advantage of that. His fist connected with Baekhyun’s throat, which had him choking and gasping for air all at once.

In a series of perfectly executed movements, Yixing had Baekhyun on the floor. He sat on the recruit’s chest and punched Baekhyun until his head lolled to the side. Yifan knew Yixing would have continued on as he wanted, sprinkles of blood on the silk on his chest and trickles of it down onto the floor.

“Stop him,” Yifan commanded quietly.

Lu Han’s response was one of urgency as he looped his arms under Yixing’s biceps and pulled him off Baekhyun’s body. There was a moment when Yixing just blinked, as if he’d not been aware of what he’d been doing. Then, his mouth pulled up into a smile when he saw Baekhyun, unmoving with a bloodied face.

He looked between Yifan and Baekhyun with that smile, silently asking if Yifan had seen what he’d done. Asking if he was proud. Yifan grinned back with a curt nod of his head. Yixing giggled then, delighted and bright.

When Lu Han had let go of Yixing, they both rose to their feet and, while Lu Han scrambled to tend to Baekhyun, Yixing checked himself over quickly. He sighed, and rolled his eyes, at the unconscious man, “Your incompetent fighting ruined my shirt.”

Yifan made his approach then and wrapped his fingers around Yixing’s, lifted the bleeding and bloodstained knuckles to his mouth and kissed them gently.

“You’re beautiful,” Yifan muttered as he switched his lips’ attention to Yixing’s cheeks, which were also speckled with red. “So beautiful.”

 

«                »

 

Yixing was sat on Yifan’s hips, stripped bare and perched like a siren looking down on his prey, when there was a crash through the bedroom door. Yifan’s eyes flicked over to where Yixing’s father stood, frothing with a wrath Yifan had never seen before. Yixing, however, was unfazed. He simply rolled his eyes and leant down to kiss over Yifan’s heart.

 _“Yixing,”_ his father barked, the sound of his feet hitting the floor echoing on the floorboards.

“Yes, Father?” He responded, with his lips still to Yifan’s sternum. “Can you not see that I’m busy?”

“What did you do to Baekhyun?”

Yixing appeared to recall the memory and smirked, licking Yifan’s skin. “It was just a game.”

“He was unconscious for three days,” his father hissed, circling around the bed, only to recoil when he saw how bare Yixing’s beautiful body was on Yifan’s hips. “You need to learn to control yourself.”

“Why do you care so much anyway?” Yixing hummed, not paying the man much attention as he ran his finger’s up and down Yifan’s torso. “He’s just some recruit that got a little too big for his boots. I simply put him back in his place.”

Suddenly uncaring of the state both Yifan and Yixing were in, Yixing’s father leapt forward and dug his fist into Yixing’s hair, pulling it sharply. Yifan’s fingers on Yixing’s thighs curled into them sharply, not from the feeling of Yixing’s body tensing up around his cock - which was still very much inside his lover - but to stop himself from trying to get the kingpin to unhand Yixing.

“How would you like it if I beat your lover to a pulp?”

Yifan’s world stopped at the implication of the man’s words and Yixing laughed, with everything he was, Yixing _laughed._ The hand in his hair was no longer a worry as everything pieced itself together in Yixing’s head, Yifan could see it in Yixing’s smile.

“So, you admit that Baekhyun’s your lover?” Yixing challenged, licking his lips as his father’s face paled. “I guess it makes sense, though. Why else would you put a salacious creature in front of what’s mine, if you didn’t know exactly how it would seduce? If you, a man who thinks he’s stronger than all, fell foul to it, why wouldn’t Yifan?”

There was a moment of silence and Yixing’s father slowly let go of the grip he had on his son. At that action, Yifan’s nails removed themselves from where they’d dented Yixing’s thighs, and he soothed over the impressions gently. With a smirk and a sigh, Yixing bent forward to run his tongue over Yifan’s lips, too. It was all too easy to ignore the disgusted grunt emanating next to them.

From there, Yixing merely continued, disregarding his father’s revulsion, “You’re the one that says love breeds loyalty. That’s true. Though, it only works if the love goes both ways. And how fun would that be, telling mother, planting the seed that you don’t really feel much for her at all? Not enough to remain loyal, at least. And her reaction, the spectacle that would be. Because we both know I didn’t inherit being this deranged from you. In the same way we both know she’d pick your eyes out with those ruby claws she keeps in her jewellery box.”

“You wouldn’t dare tell her,” the older man scoffed, his expression displaying nothing but incredulousness. “You don’t have it in you.”

“Do you really want to run that risk? Because I think it could be kind of fun, watching her blind you with the gifts you gave her at your wedding.”

“You impudent dunce,” the man roared and Yifan’s response to the man raising his hand to strike Yixing was completely reflexive. His hand had gone under the pillow and brought out his gun, cocked it and directed it at the man’s heart. The motion of the hit stopped just as it reached Yixing’s hair. The man stared down at the weapon pointed at his chest and he ground his teeth. “I should have had your _mutt_ killed weeks ago.”

He stepped back from where Yifan had his gun directed at his chest, anger twitching in the finger that Yifan had gently bent around the trigger. Yixing held Yifan’s face with feather light touch, caressing the skin whilst he turned his head to give a simple warning to his father: “I think you’re forgetting, Father, that my _‘mutt’_ is a guard dog. He may not bark, but he certainly bites.”

Yifan was too busy staring at the serenely serious expression Yixing displayed when confronting his father, to even note that the other man had retreated back across the room. All Yifan could note was that Yixing was nothing of the scared young boy that he used to be. That single moment was enough for Yifan to know that Yixing had, if he were a sickness, blossomed into an unshakable disease. He was infallible.

He was everything Yifan loved in a person.

With a slight lift of his hips, Yixing stared his father and asked, “Now, could I continue to let my lover enjoy my body in peace, or do you want us to continue with you here?”

The bed shook with how hard the bedroom door was slammed and Yixing recommenced just as they had been before their interruption.

“I’ll keep you by my side,” Yixing promised with a sincerity he only showed to Yifan, his legs bearing the strain of how he rode the older man. “That’s all that matters to me.”

Yifan let his hands rove over the warm, golden skin of Yixing’s body and sat up to kiss him, saying, “I’ll keep you safe until I die,” in return.

 

«                »

 

Yifan was in the apartment, sat at the kitchen table when Yixing came through the front door, and he rose up to his feet to greet him. Yixing, however, waved him off with his hand, telling him, “I’m not here to see you. Though, I would like it if you were there.”

“You’re here for Baekhyun?” Yifan asked with a tilt to his head. That was something new from Yixing.

Yixing hummed in confirmation as he slid past Yifan, not without twining their fingers first, and led him towards the recruit’s bedroom. It was completely quiet in the apartment and Yixing decided to forgo using any kind of light - other than that which bled into the bedroom from the kitchen. He crouched beside the bed, in line with Baekhyun’s face, and pulled Yifan down next to him.

“Cover his mouth, I don’t want him to scream.” Yifan obeyed the words of his master with such urgency that it almost felt like Yixing’s voice controlled Yifan’s body. “Thank you.”

Yixing shook the young man awake and Yifan made sure to push his hand hard against his lips, muting the noise that erupted from it.

“Good evening,” Yixing greeted pleasantly, lifting his fingers to brush over Baekhyun’s jaw. “I hope you were sleeping well.”

Yifan’s brain couldn’t grasp the sudden change in attitude Yixing was showing the recruit. He felt how it unnerved Baekhyun - in the sharp flinch of his muscles as Yixing skimmed over the bruised areas of his flesh - to be shown tenderness from someone who had been so steadfast in his hate for him. Nevertheless, Yifan could sense something with darker intentions swirling beneath Yixing’s skin, so he watched. And, he did so quietly.

“Now, Baekhyun,” Yixing ran his hand through the recruit’s hair, his calm words accenting it, “you’ve got yourself into a bit of a pickle. I know you’ve been fucking my father.”

Baekhyun’s eyes widened and Yifan felt the air he breathed onto his hands quicken. Fear had begun to take over Baekhyun’s body. And Yixing seemed to feed on it.

“I don’t see how someone, as beautiful as you are, could give themselves up to someone like him. I can barely see how my mother has done it for all these years. And then I looked at your private file. The one in my father’s office.” Yixing sat on the edge of the mattress and continued to card through Baekhyun’s hair. “And, oh, you poor thing, being passed around by my father and his associates like that must have been so terrible. It was something I was threatened with, as a child, until I was put in Gege’s care. Those men really are vile, aren’t they? With all their... _predilections._ ”

Baekhyun’s eyes watered instantly, they dimmed slightly as memories flashed through his mind, and he nodded. Yifan almost felt bad for the recruit, feeling the way his body quaked under the mere mention of what had been done to him. Yixing sighed and kept his comforting movements going on Baekhyun’s head.

“It’s no wonder you’re like this. It’s no wonder you wanted my Yifan to save you, like he did with me. My father’s an evil man, Baekhyun. He made you think that becoming his lover would make all of that stop, didn’t he? But, you see, he did that on purpose. He wants you where you are, helpless in his lap. Still, Yifan and I, we want to give you a way out.”

Yixing placed his hand over Yifan’s, he drew it away from Baekhyun’s mouth, letting him gulp air into his mouth. Both of them rubbed his chest as he caught his breath back, their attempt to ease him onto the bed again.

“I’ll do anything,” Baekhyun suddenly sobbed, his hands coming up to clasp around their wrists. “Please, help me. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“We will help you get away from my father,” Yixing reassured him, placating in his tone. “But that’s not your only issue. My mother, you probably don’t know a lot about her, but she’s a lot like me. She doesn’t like sharing. And she deals with it in a very similar way to me.”

Yifan watched how Baekhyun gulped deeply and bit back a smile at the anxiety he was showing.

“If she finds out about what you’ve been doing with my father, well, let’s just say the ending won’t be very pleasing for you. Yifan and I can protect you from him. From my mother? I’m not so sure. Everyone adores her, no one - not even me - has ever gone against her. You’d be fighting a losing battle on that front. That leaves only one way to fix this.”

Baekhyun stumbled and stuttered over his words, so weak and fragile. “I want it to end. Please, tell me what to do, I’ll do anything you want.”

Yixing kissed Baekhyun’s cheek, whispering, “It’s simple, you’ll need to kill them both.”

 

«                »

 

Yixing held Baekhyun’s hand as they made their way through the house, Yifan trailing close behind with his knife drawn. Barely anyone was around, given how early in the morning it was, leaving the hallways barren and silent. Yifan was still cautious, not wishing for them to trip at the final hurdle.

Only when they were in Yixing’s parents’ bedroom did Yifan relinquish his knife to Baekhyun, who stared at it a moment before taking it.

He approached Yixing’s father’s sleeping form first and Yixing hurried to stop him.

“Her first,” he told him. “Slit her throat, it’ll be more painless that way, I don’t want to be cruel to her. Stay calm.” He gave Baekhyun a quick peck to the side of his face. “The cleaner this is, the easier it’ll be.”

Baekhyun did as he was told and Yixing’s mother startled away with a horrific gurgle as she choked on her own blood. Yifan watched on from where he stood behind Yixing, both of them bearing witness to how red oozed out from her body and soaked into the bed linen.

Yixing’s father stirred and Yifan could feel the excited tension within Yixing build up. He brought Baekhyun back to his father’s side of the bed and stroked through his hair, petting him like he was a pup.

“You’re doing brilliantly,” he praised and Yifan saw how Baekhyun preened under the words. “I want you to unleash all your anger out on him. Make him pay for all the things he did to you, for the way he, and all his pathetic friends, used you. This is your time to let out what you’ve repressed to keep him happy. It’s what you deserve.”

Baekhyun was so clearly bolstered by the pep talk, with his shoulders squaring and his spine straightening up. He awaited Yixing’s next order and Yifan felt nostalgia chew in the back of his mind; that had once been him and a young Yixing. He’d taught his master almost everything and the evolution of seeing him teach another felt all the more satisfying. Yifan really could not contain his infatuation with his master, it was just far too intense to confine to a mere definition.

“Wake him slightly,” Yixing guided, showing Baekhyun how to nudge the man. “Good boy.”

At the flutter of eyelids in the dark light, Yixing’s teeth drew back in a snarl before he whispered, “Now.”

Baekhyun’s arms rose up above his head, which gave him enough force to break through the bones of the lucid man’s chest. Blood spurted up and out, onto both Yixing and Baekhyun. Still, the recruit didn’t stop himself there. He stabbed the man over and over and over again, the sound of the knife plunging in and out made Yixing snicker.

“Wait a minute.” Baekhyun’s movements seized like Yixing’s words had physically restrained him. The man on the bed was rasping and blood gargled in his lungs as he tried to breathe. Yifan thought the sight and sounds to be dappled with gorgeousness.

“Take a moment and just watch it. Look at how his life is slipping away from him. Isn’t it such a magnificent way to get your revenge on him? All this blood,” Yixing said right into Baekhyun’s ear, “it’s nothing compared to the tears he’s made you cry. But it’s worth it.”

Baekhyun nodded, and only when Yixing’s father stilled did he let out a relieved breath. He turned to both the older men, searching for affirmation between them, and Yixing, using one of his kindest smiles, gave it to him.

“You’ve done so well, Baekhyun. Now, go back to Yifan’s apartment and wash up. We’ll clean things up here.”

Not needing to be told twice, Baekhyun left the room with that bright smile from Yixing following him out. Yixing turned back to look at his parents’ bodies for a few moments, then the beckoned Yifan closer. When he was within reach, Yixing’s arms hooked around his neck and dragged him down closer, until their mouths were in line. In a mess of tongues and teeth, Yixing began to pant onto Yifan’s lips from their desperate exchange.

“Please, fuck me, Yifan,” Yixing groaned. “I really want it.”

“Here?” Yifan asked, looking down at the floor, at their feet.

“No.” Yixing was still smiling, though, it had darkened considerably. He walked back and crawled up onto his parents’ bed, lying between them, in their blood. “Right here.”

Yifan didn’t hesitate to grin as he crawled up over Yixing and kissed his mouth, stripping him, “God, I love you.”

 

«                »

 

The news travelled quickly through the house, through the whole organisation and its branches that the kingpin - and his wife - had been murdered in their sleep. The witch hunt was spectacular. Yifan observed it all by Yixing’s side, who played the role of the grieving son well. Baekhyun had been advised to stay away whilst the worst of it happened, Yixing’s thin promise to protect him had Baekhyun convinced that Yixing would do well by him.

Yifan knew differently when whispers of Baekhyun’s past met his ears. No one, other than Yixing had access to the source of the information, and Yifan knew there was something more simmering under the surface. And Yixing told him to wait until the final act was finished to ask questions.

 _“This is my gift to you, Gege,”_ Yixing told him in the middle of the night, toying with the strands of hair that fell onto Yifan’s forehead. _“It’s our insurance that we can be together.”_

Having been in the dark underbelly of society for so long, Yifan knew it was only a matter of time before Baekhyun was dragged in through the front doors by his scruff. Yifan didn’t stop Yixing, nor did he want to, in enacting whatever plan he’d conjured up. Even if Baekhyun begged him to, eyes glistening under his bruised skin.

Tensions built up in the house as people speculated that Baekhyun was the traitor. Still, Yixing remained quiet on the issue, both in public and private. It was like he was cultivating something, wishing to have it served up on a silver platter.

And yet, there was no silverware or trays in sight, only a blood stained dishcloth, Yifan’s knife and a crisply white letter. Yixing opened up the letter in front of a large gathering of others, Baekhyun included, and let a strained frown pull down at his mouth.

“It seems as if the evidence is conclusive,” he announced. People gasped and all spoke amongst themselves until Yixing cleared his throat one time. It was pin drop silence from then. “Since this organisation’s conception, my family have always maintained one expectation that, above all else, there’s loyalty in our ranks. Proof of disloyalty is punishable by death.”

The titter of approval that phrase got was almost tangible amongst the crowd and Yifan almost wished he was part of it all, to soak Yixing’s words into his skin and let it renew his loyalty. Then he realised that, by flanking his lover, his own actions had gained the endorsement of the people Yixing held dominance over. The power of control jolted through Yifan’s veins as he felt eyes upon him.

“Let me see the traitor.” One eyebrow lifted on Yixing’s brow and two people, one woman and one man, brought Baekhyun’s wriggling body up to where Yixing stood. The young man seethed with rage and sorrow - which served to be exactly what Yifan knew Yixing wanted.

Yixing gave a vague gesture towards Yifan and he took the knife Yixing had been brought, he adjusted his grip on it a few times before he stepped up until he was behind Baekhyun. He lifted the pointed tip until it hovered over Baekhyun’s jugular and that’s when the recruit broke.

“You pro-promised to keep me safe,” Baekhyun cried out, only to have his hand covered by Yifan’s gloved ones. The rest of what he tried to scream out to the world muffled by the leather gloves Yifan had donned for the occasion.

Yixing didn’t waste any time in leaning in close to tell Baekhyun, “People lie to get what they want.”

Yixing nodded up to Yifan, who let the blade in his hand puncture the flesh of Baekhyun’s throat.

“I’m not even sorry,” Yifan heard Yixing whisper into Baekhyun’s ear as the knife slid across his throat, leaving a deep, blood gushing slit in its path. “This is what you get for trying to touch what’s mine.”

There was a loud roar from the crowd as Baekhyun’s body hit the floor with a muted thud and Yixing had never radiated such confidence before. He’d never seen Yixing be so revered and adored by the world they were immersed in, and all Yifan could think of was how lucky he was to be able to spend it by Yixing’s side. To enjoy the glory with him.

Yifan wiped the blood from his knife onto his trouser leg and clipped it onto the buckle he had on his belt, Yixing took his hand instantly and held it to his cheek. He glowed with happiness.

“Now, no one can take you away from me.”

 

«                »

 

Yifan looked from the bannister on the top floor, down to the people below. They scurried like rats and ants trying to escape the heavy boot of something far larger than themselves, Yifan watched in awe as Yixing entered in through the front door. Everything about him was dowsed in elegant power, even as he sought out Yifan’s gaze and let happiness spread across his face.

That expression didn’t change as Yixing climbed each set of stairs

“You must come with me next time,” Yixing whispered into his chest, hands coming to rest on his shoulders. “You know how I hate getting my hands dirty and how much I love it when you do.”

As Yixing finished speaking, the doors opened up again and a gaggle of old men walked through. He dashed away from Yifan and leant so far over the bannister that Yifan wrapped his arms around Yixing’s waist, to scupper any chance of him falling over.

“Watch this,” Yixing told him as he leant back angst his chest. Yixing clapped once and each of the men had a bullet put straight through their heads. Yixing’s eyes were alight with delight. He gave a few lighter claps of his hands, applauding the shooters and expressing his satisfaction. “It’s what they deserve, for doing what they did to Baekhyun. For making us do what we did to him.”

“It was fun, though,” Yifan breathed out against Yixing’s neck and Yixing twisted around in his arms. “I loved being able to see you like that, so dominant and transfixing.”

“We’ll do it again, love, so many times. Now that I’m in control, no one can stop us.”

Yifan kissed, sucked and bit at Yixing’s throat, showing the younger how much he adored him. And Yifan knew that Yixing really did love him, with how gently he handled Yifan - along with the extent he went to just to keep Yifan close.

“Isn’t it beautiful,” Yixing whispered into Yifan’s ear with an excited giggle as Yifan’s breath hit his flesh, “this twisted little world of ours?”


End file.
